


Shared History

by queenlua



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29918478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenlua/pseuds/queenlua
Summary: "You know," Aerith said, in a teasing, singsong voice, "you could have spoken up sooner."
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough & Red XIII | Nanaki
Kudos: 5
Collections: Final Fantasy Kiss Battle 2021





	Shared History

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [2021 Final Fantasy Kiss Battle](https://seventhe.dreamwidth.org/437147.html), for the prompt "Red XIII & Aerith, shared history."

"You know," Aerith said, in a teasing, singsong voice, "you could have spoken up sooner."

Red was curled up by the campfire—he'd been dozing, really, and Aerith's voice startled him awake. He'd caught the words, but not their meaning: "Pardon, miss?"

Aerith sat down on the log beside him, still smiling. "Back in the lab," she said. "You could have spoken up sooner in the lab. I thought I was talking to myself the whole time we were locked up together."

Ah, yes. Hojo's lab. When they had first met.

When they'd shoved a woman into the cell beside him, Red thought there must have been some mistake. Hojo only dealt with monsters—and things that looked like monsters, Red guessed, thinking of himself.

The woman was unphased, however, glancing around the room as though she were deciding on the proper furnishings for a cozy new apartment, and not at all like she was locked up behind three layers of guards somewhere in Shinra Tower.

Then, she had finally noticed him with an excited gasp, spotting him through the thin plexiglass wall that divided the two of them: "Oooh, kitty! You're so pretty."

Red had flinched, pulling his lips into an expression of bemusement that, to the untrained eye, probably looked more like a snarl.

"Mm, you're not a kitty at all," she said, her voice dropping a pitch, solemn. "Sorry, Mister..." She searched him for some sign of a name, and found it: "Mister Thirteen. I'm Aerith. Nice to meet you."

Red had almost spoken, then. Despite all the blood-draws and endless measurements the lab's technicians had taken, despite all the things he'd been injected with and monitors he'd been cuffed with and the cameras on every wall—despite all that, this was the first time someone had looked at Red, _really_ looked at him, in weeks. And so, he almost spoke to her.

But then he didn't, and Aerith went on talking, addressing him as Mister Thirteen. She didn't speak like she was talking to a kitten, nor to lab-monster; she just spoke to him like any other person. She told him some stories about the children back in her Sector. She told him about a chatty customer who bought flowers from her. Little things.

Maybe, Red thought, all this chatter was a stratagem for holding her nerves steady. If so, she was doing a fine job. Her voice quavered only rarely, and only a little.

And maybe—maybe, Red realized just then, staring at the same woman now, weeks after their escape, sitting by this fire beneath a starlit sky—maybe she had spoken more than she would have, if she'd known he could understand. Maybe his reticence had led to something like deception. They had been in that lab together for several days, after all. After the first day, she had told him that she'd been here before, in this very lab. That this wasn't her first run-in with Hojo. Later, she talked a little about the church she tended, and a bit about her mother. Red had been able to hazard a guess at what she was, then—Bugenhagen had taught him the planet's history well—and still, he'd kept his silence—

"I apologize," Red said at last, with a little start. "I didn't intend to deceive you."

"It's not something to be sorry about," Aerith said, laughing. "It's just funny."

Red quirked a lip, like it was funny. But then he flicked his tail, and batted one of his ears, because—maybe it wasn't anything to be _sorry_ about, but it still felt unworthy of him, somehow, and it was simple enough to explain—

"I didn't like talking where Hojo might hear."

Aerith tilted her head. It reminded him of a gesture his mother used to make sometimes. Interested, but not demanding.

Red smoothed down some fur he hadn't noticed he'd bristled in the first place, and looked back to the fire. "Before you arrived, I'd demanded an audience with Professor Hojo. I thought there had been a misunderstanding, and if he realized that I was no dumb beast, he would have to let me go." Red laughed, once. "If he'd spoken _to_ me, and told me he didn't care, that would've been one thing. But he just said 'impressive' and 'interesting,' no matter what I was saying, as though all my words were just circus tricks. I don't know if he was ignoring me on purpose or if he really _couldn't_ hear, somehow." Red flicked his tail behind him. "I tried appealing to the lab assistants after that. One of them just repeated back at me everything I said, and laughed about it. Like a parrot. Utterly juvenile." He shook his head. "So I stopped bothering."

Aerith nodded. She didn't say _I'm_ sorry, which was good, because he didn't want that. What he wanted was this: the easy understanding they'd been building, those days in the lab, even if one of them hadn't realized it yet. He'd slept pressed against the plexiglass wall, in that lab, the closest thing to a source of warmth in that place—and now here they were, sitting side-by-side, with no wall between them at all.

She didn't say sorry, but she leaned down to kiss his forehead. He purred, and nuzzled his head into her lap, and she stroked her hand through his mane, slowly, steadily, until he at last drifted back asleep.


End file.
